


Rice Isn't Always Nice

by BoneStudio



Series: Fruits of Heroism [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Children of Characters, Domestic Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 03:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15832521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoneStudio/pseuds/BoneStudio
Summary: [The rice is broken?] Jesse mouthed, glancing at Shingen briefly.Hanzo stifled another fit of laughter and tried to school his expression when Shingen glanced up at him. Once the boy looked away, he mouthed back, [When I was a boy, I tried to convince my father that the air was at fault for pushing Genji down.]An average morning breakfast with the Shimada-McCree family featuring broken rice, a pouting three-year-old, and his parents Jesse and Hanzo.





	Rice Isn't Always Nice

**Rice Isn’t Always Nice (Journey To Being a Big Brother)**

Meals in the Shimada-McCree household were a bizarre affair. From a culture clash of dishes to teaching a three-year-old boy how to eat without making a mess of hisself; every meal time was a new experience. Hanzo and Jesse tried to eat as a family more often now that their son was born. Years on the run eating fast food meals, missions where MREs were passed around, and memories of lonesome meals in less than savory environments made sitting at a dinner table, without the threat of an impending attack, awkward. Aside from the small child practically brimming with joy at being in their presence, his infectious grin chasing away the awkward silence, leaving behind an amiable peaceful air that both archer and gunslinger came to associate with home.

As for their son, Little Shingen was happy enough to sit between his fathers at the table. He took pride in having his own “big boy” chair, which was nothing more than a regular dining chair to Jesse and Hanzo. After becoming aware of the difference between his booster seat and his fathers’ regular seats, he argued that since he was going to be a big brother soon he had to have his own “big boy” chair.

Naturally, that wasn’t the end of it. Shingen wasn’t small for his age but compared to Hanzo and Jesse, he was tiny. Their dining room table was taller at the time and he could barely see over it on his tippy toes. But the sensibility and logic were lost upon the three year old and after consulting with Torbjorn, their old table was moved out in exchange for one where Shingen could sit comfortably. Hanzo would’ve liked to say that was the least nerve-wracking occurrence during a meal time especially after Jesse teased him relentlessly over where Shingen got his triumphant smile.

But he would be wrong. Teaching their son how to use chopsticks was both a fond and exasperating memory.

“Raven,” Hanzo crooned, gently adjusting the utensils in Shingen’s hand. “These are not meant for stabbing your food. You must be gentle.”

Shingen narrowed his eyes, glaring at the rice as if it gravely offended him and their ancestors. “The rice is broken, otou-san,” he huffed and folded his arms across his chest.

On the other side of the table, Jesse was trying to suppress his laughter. Hanzo shot him a look and shook his head though the corner of his lips were tugging up into a smile. Shingen was a better sport when it came to jabs and jokes but when his frustration was visible, not so much.

“Aw, c’mon pardner,” Jesse interjected. “I believe y’ can do it.”

Shingen looked up at Jesse with wide eyes then nodded solemnly. Meeting the cowboy’s eyes, Hanzo smiled. It wasn’t all that surprising that Jesse was able to capture his attention like this. Ever since Shingen got wind of being an older brother, he tried to do everything that his parents could do. From tying his own shoes to picking out his clothes and brushing his hair — he tried to be as independent as possible and dependable.

Hanzo had worried that he’d pushed him too hard until Shingen came running asking him for help with buttoning his shirt since one of the buttons mysteriously went missing. Turns out, the button hadn’t gone missing, he’d just been in a rush and misbuttoned. And after a quick talk about asking for help — the irony not lost on Hanzo at all — Shingen was happy to include his parents on his journey to being the best big brother ever.

While Shingen returned to his battle of wits against his rice, Jesse smiled back at him then winked. Hanzo snorted and rolled his eyes to the ceiling before meeting the gunslinger’s gaze.

[The rice is broken?] Jesse mouthed, glancing at Shingen briefly.

Hanzo stifled another fit of laughter and tried to school his expression when Shingen glanced up at him. Once the boy looked away, he mouthed back, [When I was a boy, I tried to convince my father that the air was at fault for pushing Genji down.]

That made Jesse let out a startled laugh. Shingen’s head whipped up to look at him and the gunslinger covered it up with a yawn, making a show of stretching his arms above his head, the gears in his prosthetic whirring while the joints in his left arm popped. After a few minutes of staring, Shingen continued his battle and both men breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

[You were terrible,] Jesse shot back at him, eyebrows furrowing, the bright smile he wore making him look decades younger.

Hanzo propped his elbow up on the table and rested his cheek against his hand, enjoying the way the cowboy’s cheeks darkened with a ruddish red. Observing Jesse was one of his favorite past times. Taking in every bit of the cowboy’s presence, drinking in the moment as if he would never have another chance at it again. Gaze flicking to the small child between them — Hanzo smiled softly. Moments like this weren’t meant to be taken for granted. No matter how trivial it might’ve seemed to someone else.

The distant chiding voices of the elders were background noise. Telling him that his son was unseemly, that he was wasitng time by sitting around, that he was a disgrace. Jesse’s hand found his over the table and concern was there in those whiskey brown eyes.

“I did it!” Shingen yelled, holding up a clump of sticky rice between his chopsticks triumphantly, startling both his parents out of their stupor. “Otou-san, Papa! Look!”

Jesse whistled low and sucked his teeth. “Well, would ya look at that?” He looked at Hanzo and inclined his head towards Shingen.

“Impressive,” Hanzo said, ruffling Shingen’s hair. “I knew you could it, my son.”

Shingen was practically over the moon with the praise and attention. “Now I can feed my baby brother when he gets here,” he said, stuffing the clump in his mouth and chewing happily.

Jesse and Hanzo met eyes and had a quiet battle of wills to see who would be the one to inform their son that babies couldn’t eat solid food off-rip. After a few minutes and some suggestive eyebrow wiggles and half-hearted glares, Hanzo sighed and opened his mouth trying to find the words.

“Here otou-san,” Shingen smiled broadly, waving a rice clump in front of Hanzo’s face, looking at him expectantly.

He stood on his chair and leaned against the table, his foot precariously perched along the edge. Jesse’s hand supported the chair but the other was at the ready to catch the boy should he tilt forward. Glancing at Jesse who realized what this would mean, Hanzo smirked and allowed his son to feed him, chewing slowly and thoughtfully while his husband shook his head in quiet disbelief.

“Uh sweet pea,” Jesse said after clearing his throat, shooting Hanzo a quick glare. “Y’won’t be able t’ feed your lil brother till he gets bigger.”

Shingen settled back on both feet and turned his gaze onto Jesse. Instantly, the cowboy felt like the worse human being on the face of the earth. The look on Shingen’s face was practically heartbreaking. Mouth slightly agape, eyes searching Jesse’s face for something that the cowboy wasn’t sure of, lip poking out as he sunk into his seat.

“But!” Jesse quickly added. “You can play with him anytime y’like, ain’t that right, Hanzo?”

Although Hanzo finished the clump ages ago, he couldn’t deny that it was a bit mean spirited to let Jesse deal with the brunt of a sulking three year old alone. Though he did feel mildly choked up at the idea of having two sons playing together, living together, and hopefully loving one another for the rest of their days.

“That’s right,” Hanzo paused and looked at Shingen. “And you can show him how to use chopsticks too.”

Shingen perked up at that and smiled at his chopsticks, setting out to pick up another rice clump. “I’m gonna be the best big brother ever,” he states, puffing out his chest and holding up another clump before popping it into his mouth and chewing happily. 

**Author's Note:**

> As you guys know, I don't own Overwatch and I'm not making any money from any of this. 
> 
> The only thing I do own is the little ragamuffin that is Shingen Shimada-McCree. 
> 
> Some of you might have seen other versions of him in different works of mine _but_ after taking an impromptu hiatus, it gave me a new perspective of both life and characters. This short was based off of an early 3AM idea of the joys of being around a child and the nuances of family. It was also based off a distant memory from when I was a kid and how I felt adults were interacting around me. While I was off in my own little world, my grandparents would often talk over my head and hope that I wouldn't hear or understand what they were talking about. Though in most cases, I did hear it and just couldn't be bothered to formulate a response or couldn't care.
> 
> As for Hanzo and Jesse, I imagined them as the type of parents who are attentive to their child's needs but also realize that their kid is kind of weird and have a good laugh because of it. 
> 
> And yes, I did say "parents". Jesse McCree, the six-shooter criminal with a high bounty on his head, and Hanzo Shimada, the ex-yakuza princeling who has dragons at his beck and call are _fathers_ of two boys. I wanted to explore both children with their parents, so this AU is **Journey to Being a Big Brother** or **JB3.**
> 
> Where Shingen is a little ragamuffin driving his parents off the deep end in his excitement to become the world's greatest big brother. 
> 
> Anyway, I appreciate you guys for reading and I would love some feedback. Reviews and comments are always welcome.


End file.
